


the beauty, the splendor, the wonder (of my hair)

by writetherest



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Broadway AU, F/F, Hair Brushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetherest/pseuds/writetherest
Summary: She begins to pull the brush through the long, silky strands of Kara’s hair. It has been so long since Kara has had her hair brushed by anyone, and she closes her eyes, relaxing into the moment. She lets out a quiet little noise, almost like a purr as Cat continues to brush, rhythmically and methodically. Kara isn’t sure that she’s not somehow dreaming or hallucinating this encounter. Surely Cat Grant cannot be brushing her hair. Her, little Kara Danvers from Midvale, making her Broadway debut in Cat Grant’s show. And it is Cat Grant’s show. There’s no question about that.





	the beauty, the splendor, the wonder (of my hair)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fictorium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/gifts).



> Written for Lola, for a trope mashup prompt on Tumblr - performer AU and hair brushing/braiding. Performer AU = Broadway AU in this particular instance.
> 
> Title taken from the song Hair from the Broadway musical Hair. (see what I did there?)

“Why is it that you show up to the stage door every night looking like a homeless person? Are you a homeless person?”

Kara startles at the sound of someone at the dressing room door and spins around to catch sight of Cat, standing there staring her down. “M-miss Grant!” She squeaks in surprise, not even catching what Cat has said. She is the last one in the dressing room, everyone else having already headed out. 

Cat’s eyes move over Kara’s body, taking in the beat up old Converse shoes, the leggings, the hoodie that dwarfs Kara’s frame, and the beanie shoved onto her head. “My god, you really do look like you’re homeless. Honestly, Kiera, _what_ is that outfit?”

“Uh, it’s actually Kara, Miss Grant. And um, I don’t know what –“

Cat sighs, as though this discussion that she started is the biggest waste of her precious time. “How do you expect anyone at stage door to recognize you, let alone want to take a photo with you when you leave looking like that?”

“Oh.” Kara glances down at herself and then back at Cat, immaculately dressed with her hair somehow looking perfect despite the wig she wears in the show and her stage make up removed and replaced with perfect contouring and shading. Kara thinks that she could understand why some people hate the self-proclaimed Queen of Broadway if she wasn’t so damn amazed by her. “I – I’m not someone people really want to see at the stage door, Miss Grant. I mean, everyone is there to see you so –“

“And no one will ever be there to see you if you don’t start acting like you’re a star. I see what you do on that stage every night, Kiera. You have real talent. But you’re never going to go anywhere if you don’t start acting like you know it. So buck up and for god’s sake, start dressing better.”

With that, Cat is gone in a whirl of perfume and Kara can only stare after her. “Yes, Miss Grant.” 

**

Wednesday means two shows. Some people go out to stage door after the matinee, including Cat, she knows, but Kara stays holed up in the communal dressing room, eating pot stickers that were delivered from one of the Chinese restaurants down the street. Her hair stays firmly in place with the bobby pins so that she can pull her wig back on easily before the evening performance. She sprays it down with a little extra hair spray and winces at how much more difficult brushing it is going to be tonight.

After the evening show, she changes out of her costume and into a simple sundress that she brought from home. She tugs a cardigan on over top of it and looks at herself in the mirror. 

“Better.” Comes Cat’s voice from the doorway and Kara jumps. She was sure she was the last one left from the cast. Two show days are long and exhausting and everyone is ready to leave by the time the second show is over. Kara lingers though, still in awe of this opportunity she’s been given. Apparently, she was wrong and Cat was still here as well. “But you are still wearing that god-awful beanie.”

“Oh, uh, the wig and a two show day means extra hair spray and – my hair looks terrible.”

“So brush it.” Cat responds dryly. 

“It takes a while. It’s easier to just wait until I get home to do it.”

“Ah, so you do have one then. A home.”

“Yes, Miss Grant. I have a home.”

“Brush your hair, Kiera.” Cat says before departing again in much the same fashion as she had the night before.

**

Kara sighs as she looks at herself in the mirror. She’s taken her wig off and returned it and her costume. She’s in another sundress and cardigan now, with her beanie sitting on the dressing table, ready for her to stick it on and go, but something is making her pause.

Last night, when she’d left the stage door, a few people still hanging around after Cat had left had noticed her and asked for an autograph. No pictures, but it had been a thrill to sign Playbills, even if she’d had to borrow a pen. 

She thinks about what Miss Grant said about brushing out her hair and considers it. But there are so many bobby pins in it and even once she gets them all out, it takes so long to brush it out that Kara honestly doesn’t want to spend all that time doing it here in the dressing room. She isn’t the star of the show. Not even close. She can wear her beanie and it will be fine.

Just as she reaches for the hat, a pack of Sharpies lands on her dressing table with a thud, cutting off her path. “If you don’t want to catch any diseases, you need to start carrying your own Sharpies.” Cat says and when Kara looks into the mirror, she sees her standing behind her. 

“Thank you, Miss Grant,” Kara says, “but I don’t think I’m going to catch any diseases from the fans.”

Cat scoffs at her. “Use the Sharpies. Trust me. Those theatre goers may think they’re so refined, but they’re breeding grounds for germs.” She shudders for just a second, then moves closer, eyes on Kara’s in the mirror. “Your hair is still up.”

“I – I’m sorry, Miss Grant, but it’s just so much easier to –“

“No, no.” Cat shakes her finger. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

And before she can comprehend what is happening, Cat’s fingers are slipping into her hair, tugging bobby pins loose, letting Kara’s hair fall down in wild curls. “M-Miss Grant?”

“You can call me Cat, Kiera. I don’t bite, no matter what Bernadette may have told you.”

“Oh no, I don’t think that you do, Miss – Cat.” She corrects quickly at the glare from Cat. “I just – you don’t have to do this.”

“Well apparently I do, since you appear to be unable to do it yourself.” Cat says, removing the last of the bobby pins and dropping them down onto the table. She then reaches forward and grabs the brush from the top of the table.

She begins to pull the brush through the long, silky strands of Kara’s hair. It has been so long since Kara has had her hair brushed by anyone, and she closes her eyes, relaxing into the moment. She lets out a quiet little noise, almost like a purr as Cat continues to brush, rhythmically and methodically. Kara isn’t sure that she’s not somehow dreaming or hallucinating this encounter. Surely Cat Grant cannot be brushing her hair. Her, little Kara Danvers from Midvale, making her Broadway debut in Cat Grant’s show. And it is Cat Grant’s show. There’s no question about that.

“There,” Cat says, breaking her out of her relaxed state some time later. Kara honestly doesn’t know how much time has passed. When she catches sight of herself in the mirror, she is amazed. Her hair looks fantastic.

“Oh!” She exclaims, jumping up and spinning around to catch Cat in a hug before she thinks better of it. “Thank you, Miss Grant!”

Cat stays stiff and still during the hug but gives a nod of acknowledgement when Kara releases her. “I’ve told you – it’s Cat. Now take your Sharpies and get to the stage door. I expect you to take some pictures this evening. Tomorrow we’ll deal with that make up situation.”

“Yes, Cat.” Kara beams as she leaves the dressing room. 

**

“If you put that beanie on your head, I swear to god, Kiera, I will make Patti’s rants look like calm requests to turn off your flash.”

Kara startles once again at Cat’s presence. 

“Miss Grant! I wasn’t expecting –“

“Clearly.” Cat says, snatching up the beanie and actually tossing it into the trash can.

“Miss Grant!”

“Kiera, I thought we had taken care of this problem. Apparently not, as you still have your hair full of bobby pins.”

“Miss Grant, you really don’t have to do this.” Kara argues, even as Cat goes about pulling the pins out once again. “You’re going to be late to the stage door and –“

“Kiera, I am the star. They will wait out there for me for as long as I want them to. And if you would help by starting to at least remove the pins until I get here, they wouldn’t have to wait so long. But no, you can’t even do that. So those poor souls will just have to wait.”

“That isn’t fair!” Kara protests as Cat picks up the brush.

“Life isn’t fair, Kiera. Take out the pins next time. Save those poor fans some waiting time.” 

**

Saturday brings another two show day, but also rain with it this week. It’s falling at a pretty steady pace and Kara is surprised when she looks out the window of the dressing room to see a crowd of people waiting at the stage door. Some of them have umbrellas, but most are just braving the rain. 

When the door opens and Cat steps out, everyone bursts into applause, their faces lighting up with joy. Kara smiles too, watching as Cat goes down the line, taking photos and signing Playbills for everyone, even as her assistant Siobhan follows along, dutifully holding an umbrella over her. 

After she is done, Cat goes back into the stage door, no doubt heading for her dressing room. Kara wishes she could go join her, sit with her and talk, pick her brain about all the things Kara wants to know. But instead she turns back to her pot stickers and lets the moment pass.

That night after the show, it’s still raining when she glances out the window to take in the view of the stage door, where an even bigger crowd is waiting in the rain. Her fingers move up and begin pulling bobby pins out of her hair.

“So, you can follow directions.” Cat’s voice doesn’t startle her this time, nor does the feeling of her fingers carding through Kara’s hair, being sure that all the pins are out. 

“It’s raining.” Kara inclines her head towards the window as Cat picks up the brush. “I didn’t want to keep them waiting.”

“This isn’t the Gershwin, Kiera. They won’t melt.”

“Still. They’re all out there, in the rain, waiting for you. It must feel amazing to know you’re so loved.”

Cat’s eyes meet Kara’s in the mirror. “It is a gift, but it is also a responsibility. It would be just as easy to walk right past them and get in my car and drive away on nights like tonight.”

“But you don’t. You even went out after the matinee.”

“Spying on me, Kiera?” 

Kara’s face goes bright red. “N-no, Miss Grant! I just – the window is –“

“Come on.” Cat says, putting down the brush and squeezing Kara’s shoulders. “Let’s go see our fans.”

Kara wants to protest, but instead just follows Cat. When the door opens, she’s met with the burst of applause for Cat and it brings a smile to her face.

“Cat! Cat!” 

Cat waves at everyone and then looks at Kara. “Good evening, everyone! I’ll be around to you all in just a minute. While I start here, Kara Danvers, the newest star of Broadway will start over there. You’re going to want her autograph and picture. Trust me.”

Kara blushes as she reaches into her bag, pulling out her Sharpie and uncapping it. Cat Grant has just proclaimed her the newest star of Broadway. She doesn’t even notice the rain that falls on her as she poses for pictures and signs Playbills. She’s too warm from the inside out.

**

“Honestly, Kiera, stop moping.” Cat waves the hairbrush towards Kara’s reflection before returning to pulling it through Kara’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Cat.” Kara says softly, even as a few tears manage to escape her eyes.

Cat puts the brush down and places her hands firmly on Kara’s shoulders. “Enough of the tears. You are moving on to a show where you get to be the star, as I always knew you would. There is nothing to be sad about.”

Kara spins on the stool, looking up at Cat with wide eyes. “Yes, there is. I know we haven’t exactly talked about this but… this… you brushing my hair after the show each night… it means the world to me and I look forward to it every day and I’m going to miss it and miss you.”

“Kara.” Cat says, finally pronouncing her name correctly. “I have a strict rule to not get involved with anyone that I am working on a show with. I’ve seen it go badly too many times.”

Kara frowns, not understanding where Cat is going with this. “If all you are going to miss is the hair brushing, you can have it written into your contract that you need someone to brush your hair each night after the show. I’ll put my lawyer on it in the morning.” Cat sasses. “But if it’s something else that you’ll miss, then perhaps, now that we are no longer working on a show together…”

Cat lets her voice trail off and Kara’s eyes go wide with realization. “Cat.” She gasps and then, before she can think better of it, she stands up and pulls Cat to her, kissing her fiercely.

Cat’s hands come up to tangle in Kara’s hair. It feels perfect beneath her fingers, just like it has every night since she gave in to her whims and started brushing it herself. As she loses herself in kissing Kara, Cat thinks that perhaps, if she plays her cards right, she can brush Kara’s hair for her again in the morning.


End file.
